News Archive: Max April 2010

I have a bunch of blogs backed up. Wait. That sounds disgusting.
Pretend I didn’t say that. What I mean is: I keep thinking of things
I want to blog about, but before I do I get distracted by emails or
real writing or my wife getting pregnant. I know. You could argue
that I have prioritization issues. On the other hand, you could argue
I don’t. It’s not like anyone pays me for these. I only do them for
the look on your face. That’s right. I’m watching you. I’m watching
you right now. See that webcam? Give me a little wave. Hello,
my pretty. Hello.

But that’s beside the point. The point is: my wife is pregnant.
I can’t believe you didn’t react more when I mentioned that
a second ago. You barely frowned. Oh, wait. I see. You were wondering
if you already knew about that. I guess I didn’t really telegraph it. I
just kind of slipped it in there. But enough about the conception.
Ha ha! Joke. We used IVF. Not because we have to. We just like to
employ advanced medical technology wherever possible. It’s expensive,
but we think it’s worth it. They say you can’t genetically
engineer your embryos, but once you get inside and they close
the door, you totally can. We went for a female green-eyed redhead
with a propensity to sneeze in sunlight and a tail like a fish.

Last Friday we went along for our 20-week scan. We decided to
find out the sex this time, because Jen wanted to find out the sex
and I couldn’t stand the idea of her knowing something I didn’t.
It would have thrown off the delicate power balance of the whole
relationship. You might think that’s silly but that’s what they said
about Palestine. I don’t want a repeat of that. Not in my house.
So off we went, and Dr. Andrew showed us that we’re having a girl!
He showed us in a way that would be truly mortifying if the girl
was aware of it, by the way. I kind of feel sorry for girls today
growing up with DVDs of their prenatal scans tucked away in their
parents’ bedside tables. You just know they’re going to come
out at the 21st party. Anyway, there it is: we will have two girls,
and the new one will own nothing new until she leaves home.

Before Finlay was born, her placeholder name was “Popsicle”
(Poppy for short),
because she was brewed from a frozen embryo.
As we were walking out of the clinic, Finlay said, “We should call
her Chandelier.” I don’t know where that came from. But that’s the
placeholder. Chandelier Barry. A new light in the world.